


close quarters

by Bontaque



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incest, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Sibling Incest, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:19:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bontaque/pseuds/Bontaque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of many Christmas fics written for 2012.</p>
<p>Sam gets frustrated from being cooped up so often. He's fourteen and too many things turn him on. Dean notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	close quarters

 Sam was fourteen when he first managed to sneak out of their motel room. If his Dad wasn't around, then Dean was and they were both light sleepers. He managed to slip out of the door, a thrill slipping through him. He'd done it. He could go anywhere.

He walked through the lobby and slipped out of the front door. There was a gas station across the road, so he bought himself a soda and walked around for a while. There wasn't much to do, it was stupid and he knew that he was probably going to get caught but it just felt good to have some time to himself. They'd been in Atlanta for nearly a month and living in such close quarters could get to you. He knew that once they were done, it would just be another day in the Impala, knee to knee with Dean until they settled somewhere else for a bit. He needed space to think.

Dean was older than him and they just didn't get each other. They were close, sure, they had to be, but they were just so different. Dean did everything their father told him to and made up for it by ignoring every other source of authority. Sam actually went to class, because he was not going to live a hunter's life forever. He was going to college. Dean was going to spend the rest of his life picking up women in bars.

Not that Sam even wanted to think about that. He'd seen Dean with a girl at school, practically making out in the hallway. Sam had been five minutes late to class because he'd turned straight around and taken the long route.

He'd seen worse but he didn't like it. It was bad enough when Dean took him to a diner and flirted with every girl in there. He knew he should probably count himself lucky that he didn't bring them back to the motel room when their Dad was away.

Sam managed to slip back into the motel room without waking his father. He thought he was safe, until he sat down on his bed and began to pull his shoes off.

When they'd first arrived, it was supposed to be a quick job. They'd rented a small room, with one double and one single bed. Their father had taken the single, letting Dean and Sam separate the double. They knew by now that ninety percent of motel double beds were actually just two singles pushed together. So they had their own beds, but they were only inches apart.

The springs on the bed creaked loudly and Dean rolled over. His eyes ran over Sam's face before he raised his eyebrows. Sam just shrugged. 

“I wanted a soda,” he mouthed.

It was no big deal and if Dean made it one, he was going to be grounded for months. He did not need to be cooped up. Instead of saying anything else, Dean just rolled over and went back to sleep.

 

*

 

When Dean broke up with his cheerleader girlfriend, he acted like it didn't bother him and Sam acted like it didn't make him happy. He had a problem and he knew it, but he just didn't like having to see Dean draped over someone. He didn't like how he was always getting some, whilst Sam couldn't get a girl if he tried. He didn't like how he couldn't help getting hard when he heard Dean jerking off in the shower.

He blamed the close quarters and the fact that he was fourteen. He didn't have any space to himself and, knowing how thin the bathroom walls were, he didn't want to do it in the shower. The reaction was Pavlovian, really. It was his brother, sure, but anything to do with sex was likely to turn him on.

There were days when just a good ass in a tight pair of jeans was enough to make Sam stop and stare. Dean had a great ass. Sam always waited until later to feel guilty.

 

*

 

“I've got to head up state,” their father said one morning.

He dropped them both off to school and handed Dean a wad of cash. Once he had driven away to god knows where, Dean handed some bills to Sam.

“Get a cab back to the motel later,” he said. “I've got things to do.”

Sam wasn't surprised when he got home later that day to find Dean lounging on the bed, flicking through tv channels and drinking whiskey from the bottle.

“Good day?” he asked, slurring his words slightly.

Sam nodded slowly. Dean had his shirt off and Sam didn't know where to look. He sat down on his bed and tried to focus on the television.

Dean carried on drinking through the evening as Sam did his homework. Dinner was gas station hot dogs but they'd had worse. Sam was just waiting for Dean to go to bed. He slept more heavily when he'd been drinking.

Sam wasn't sure what he'd do, maybe he'd go for a walk. He settled on at least getting out of the motel, until Dean decided to have a shower.

He wasn't drunk, not completely, but he was tipsy. Sam tried not to listen, turning up the volume of his Walkman as Dean shut the bathroom door but just knowing what was happening made his skin prickle with arousal. He took a deep breath, desperately trying to keep his mind clear but the not knowing was making it worse. He slipped his headphones off and strained his ears.

Sam could hear running water and movement when he listened carefully. He bit his lip when he heard the unmistakable sound of moaning echoing off of the tiles. There was skin on skin and Sam's face heated up, flushing as he felt his cock harden in his jeans. Guilt battled with arousal in his stomach and he didn't know what to do. He'd never touched himself thinking of Dean, not purposely (things that popped into his head as he came wasn't his fault) and he wasn't going to start. Not when Dean could come out of the bathroom at any time.

Soon after, Sam heard a muffled groan. He had just enough time to pull his clothes of and jump into bed before the water shut off. He pulled the blankets up to his chin, rolling onto his side to hide his erection. He swallowed hard when Dean came out of the bathroom. He was dripping wet, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He allowed himself a few seconds before averting his eyes.

“In bed already?” Dean asked.

It was late enough that it wouldn't be completely weird, but Sam never really went to bed early if he could help it.

“I guess,” he replied.

He shut his eyes, not sure if he was feigning sleep or actually trying to drift off. He heard Dean slip into his own bed, flicking through channels again.

Sam gave up on trying to sleep within a few minutes, but at least his erection was finally starting to fade. He still had a needy thrum under his skin but he was used to it. 

After a while, when he hadn't heard Dean move for a few minutes, he opened his eyes.

“Dean?” he asked quietly. “Are you still awake?”

When he got no response, he sat up slightly to look at his brother. Dean was sprawled out on the bed, his blanket only just covering his lower body. Sam quietly reached over to grab the remote and switch off the television. He turned off the lights, waiting to see if Dean was going to wake up.

In the light coming through the window from a nearby street light, Sam could see the curve of Dean's back, the way his shoulders were heaving with every breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of anything else but it was too late. 

He ran his hand down under the blanket, wrapping it around his cock as it hardened. He bit his lip to keep in any noise as he slowly started to stroke it. It was hard to position himself so that the springs of his mattress didn't squeak but he was well practised. 

It had been days since he'd managed to find a time and place to jerk off and he felt the desperate tingling in his abdomen start shockingly fast. He let his mind drift to the hot girl he'd seen in the cafeteria earlier that day, but she wasn't doing it for him. She was attractive, sure, but there was no thrill to it.

He opened his eyes and traced them down Dean's back, lingering on the pale scar from the time he'd fallen onto a shard of glass. He replayed the gasps and groans he had heard less than an hour ago, imagined the taste of the liquor on his lips.

Sam couldn't even bring himself to feel bad, not at that moment. He knew what Dean must look like with his hand around his cock. He'd seen him cleaning guns, sliding his hands up and down the metal barrels. He imagined Dean, his back pressed up against the bathroom tiles, water cascading down his chest as he stroked himself hard and fast. Sam came and it was a testament to how confident he was that Dean wouldn't wake up, that he neglected to press his face into the pillow to muffle his cries. 

 

*

 

Dean hadn't known what to do when he'd heard Sam's mattress creaking. He'd known what he was doing, of course he had. Not that there was anything wrong with a little self love, he'd done the same in the shower, but it was awkward. He couldn't alert him that he was awake because that would make it even worse.

Sam's breaths were ragged and he was moaning softly. Dean balled up his fists, trying not to focus. It was his brother. It was supposed to be weird. Dean wasn't supposed to feel so curious. He managed to ignore the weird feeling, until he heard something that made his breath catch in his throat.

“Ngh... Dean--” Sam breathed and Dean froze.

At first he thought he must have imagined it, but the possibility that it was from his mind and not Sam's mouth was mildly more disturbing.

He didn't move again until he was sure that Sam was asleep.

 

*

 

Dean didn't stop thinking about what he'd head. He couldn't. There was a kind of sick curiosity in him. Maybe he was flattered, or maybe he couldn't forget the was his name had sounded on Sam's lips.

When Dean took him to school the next day, he averted his eyes as much as he could. He couldn't look at Sam's enthusiastic-to-get-to-first-period expression without feeling a little messed up in the head.

He managed to ignore it all for nearly two days. He was good at pushing everything down. He'd learned that skill early on.

When Sam walked in from the cold, a bag of soda and nachos in his hand, asking when Dad would be getting back, Dean looked at him for the first time in days. He knew he was going to have to do something, because if he just ignored it, it wasn't going to go away.

It was curiosity. He'd heard people moan his name before, but it had never sounded so sincere, not like it had with Sam. So Dean decided to test it. He decided to push the boundaries; their dad wasn't going to be back for a few days and Dean needed to know just how messed up they were.

When Sam sat down to do his homework, or maybe look up some supernatural monster on his laptop (because for some reason, Sam always needed to know what everyone else wanted to forget), Dean stripped his clothes off. Sam didn't look up, not at all. Like he was purposely keeping his eyes on his laptop.

Dean kept the smile off of his lips, walking into the bathroom. He showered quickly, scrubbing the dirt, sweat and twisted feelings out of his hair and off of his skin. He wasn't going to do this. Sam was a teenager, a young teenager. He was fourteen, he was bound to have some problem kinks. Dean wasn't going to do anything at all.

He got out of the shower and dried himself off, running the towel through his hair. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked alright, pretty good. He had a few scars but the girls loved them, especially when he made up great stories to go along with them. Stories that didn't live up to the reality at all. 

He told himself that he wasn't going to do anything, but that was a lie and he knew it. So he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his hips. Lower than he should have. All in there interest of curiosity.

He didn't look directly at Sam when he walked back out into the bedroom but he spent longer than usual walking around to find his clothes. He snuck looks out of the corner of his eyes and Sam was doing the same. He kept looking, following the way Dean moved. It wasn't long before Sam pulled the laptop off of the bed and onto his lap. Dean grinned.

He spent the next day working out what else he could do. To experiment. He told himself that he wasn't doing anything wrong. That he just wanted to see, wanted to know. That he wanted to help his little brother out.

 

*

 

Sam felt like he was going to lose his mind. He'd always been able to ignore how Dean made him a little frustrated but it was getting harder. So to speak. He’d either been noticing it more, or Dean actually was sitting closer to him and walking around half naked more often.

Sam had first noticed it one night after Dean had showered. He'd listened for the tell tale signs but, for some reason, Dean didn't jerk off that night. Instead, he came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped criminally low around him and he had made a big show of looking for something to put on. Sam had had to cover his lap with his laptop.

There had been other things, too. Dean was shirtless more and when their Dad finally got back, he sat closer to him in the back of the Impala, the heat from his denim clad thighs making it hard for Sam to think straight.

It was even worse with their Dad around. Two sets of eyes to notice when Sam was flustered, two sets of eyes to see when he got hard from looking at his brother's ass.

It was a Monday night when things started to happen. Dean showered, like he always did. Sam tried not to listen and the television was turned up louder than usual, but he could still tell from the timing that Dean hadn't done anything more than wash. When he didn't jerk off, it fascinated Sam just as much as when he did.

Sam fixed his eyes on the television as Dean got dressed. It was nearly six o'clock and he was starving.

“Sammy?” Dean asked. “C'mon, let's go get a burger.”

Their dad didn't look up from his research. He always got like that after a hunt.

So Dean grabbed some cash and the two of them left. There was a diner not far from the motel. It wasn't bad, but Sam wouldn’t miss it when they moved on. The night air was cool as they walked in silence. 

When they got inside, Sam noticed that Dean didn't eye up any of the waitresses. It was strange, but Dean had been acting a little odd. He didn't mention it and just ordered food. Dean insisted that they stay for pie. He grinned at him from across the table, ignoring the waitress' blatant attempts at flirting.

On the way home, Dean walked slowly. He looked like he was contemplating something.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked as they got closer to the motel. 

The Impala was in sight and Dean just shrugged.

“Yeah, yeah I'm good.” he said. “Uh, wait... Come with me.”

Dean led Sam around to the back of the motel, to where Sam liked to sit when he slipped out at night. It backed onto the woods and there was a section of wall with no windows. You couldn't be seen from inside and it was unlikely that anyone would walk around there.

Sam didn't know why Dean had stopped them from going to the motel. He frowned when Dean grabbed him by the arm and pushed him up against the wall. For a second, Dean just looked at him and Sam thought that he might have been in trouble. His mind rushed past everything that he had done, but he didn't see what he could be in trouble for. Unless Dean was able to read his mind and had been seeing every messed up though that he'd been having. 

Dean leaned closer to him, lips almost touching his own and Sam's heart skipped. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked.

Sam could feel Dean's breath on his lips and he swallowed. He didn't know if it was a trick question, if Dean was going to freak out if he said yes. He blinked twice, trying to figure out what to do and then nodded, slowly, very slowly.

Dean kissed him softly, barely brushing their lips together before pulling back. Sam followed him, moving forwards and taking another kiss. It was harder and and hungry and everything Sam had wanted. Dean pushed him back against the wall, teeth pressing softly into his lower lip. Sam whimpered, he couldn't help himself. He felt Dean chuckle against his mouth before he pulled away again.

“I don't think you've been as subtle as you think you have,” Dean said.

Sam felt himself blush, his heart was hammering in his chest. Dean had noticed.

“I...” Sam started, but then Dean's hands were running all over him.

Sam pressed his head back against the wall, trying to stop his head from spinning as Dean's hands ran down his chest, unzipping his jeans. He slipped his fingers into Sam's underwear, curling around his hard cock as Sam bit his lip and tried not to moan loudly. 

“Fuck!” Sam breathed as Dean squeezed his cock. 

It was like he was dreaming, like something had to be wrong. Dean was everything he wanted, everything he needed but he knew there was barely any chance that his brother would act like that.

“D-Dean... Dean are you... fuck... what? Are you really you?” Sam asked.

“What you think some monster would trick you by making me kiss you?” Dean asked.

Sam shook his head, because he knew that it was an unlikely situation.

“I don't know, no? But it was what I really wanted?”

Dean raised his eyebrows, smiling before he dropped to his knees. Never in his wildest fantasies had Sam pictured that. Sure, Dean had perfect lips but Sam just hadn't thought he'd get on his knees for anyone.

“Is that so?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded, trembling with need as Dean slipped his head over the head of his cock, mouth hot, wet and perfect. He groaned, only just managing to muffle his noises with his hand. He knew that if there was anything wrong with him, that if he somehow wasn't actually his brother, that he would have noticed before they got out of the diner. 

Dean worked him like a pro, tongue swirling deliciously as his lips moved up and down his shaft. Sam didn't think he could last very long. His hands found his brother's shoulders, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. 

Sam bit his lip, hard, to stop himself from groaning too loudly. There wasn't anyone around, but he was sure someone would come looking if he was too loud.

His fingers curled in Deans shirt tightly, pulling his brother forwards. Dean braced himself against the wall behind Sam as he let him tug at his shoulders.

“Oh, fuck,” Sam breathed, feeling the heat pool at the base of his spine. 

His legs trembled as Dean swallowed his cock down, working his throat around him. It was too much and Sam came hard, collapsing back against the wall and panting for breath.

Sam didn't look at his brother as he got to his feet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His cheeks burned with shame and Dean just chuckled.

“Hey,” Dean said. “What? Not good enough for you?”

Dean pressed up against Sam, kissing him slowly. Sam could taste himself on Dean's lips and he didn't understand.

“Aren't you mad at me?” he asked.

“Do I look mad?” Dean said.

He kissed him again, before moving back so he could unzip his own jeans. Sam's stomach flipped as he saw Dean's hand slip into his underwear. He couldn't tear his eyes away as Dean pulled his cock out and began to jerk off in front of him. It was everything he had been picturing and Dean was just staring at him, his eyes running over Sam's body.

“Do you want me to... uh...” Sam began but Dean shook his head.

“No we should really get back,” Dean said. “Fuck...”

His hand was moving fast, his thumb swiping over the head of his cock and smearing pre come down his shaft. Sam's mouth watered and he wished they had time. He knew that their father would come looking for them, though, if they spent too long. 

Dean leaned forwards again, pressing his spare hand against the wall over Sam's shoulder. He hunched over, kissing him hungrily as Sam ran his hands across his chest.

Sam listened to every gasp and groan of Dean's, locking them away in his memory for later. When Dean stepped back Sam wasn't sure why for a moment, until Dean tensed up and came, shooting against the wall beside him.

Sam just stared, sure that he hadn't seen anything that hot in his life. 

“Come on,” Dean said after a few moments. 

He tucked himself back into his jeans before checking Sam over. When he was satisfied that there was no evidence of what they had just done, they walked back around to the front of the motel and in through the door.

Sam couldn't believe when their dad didn't notice anything. He couldn't keep still when he sat on his bed, adrenaline flooding through him. 

Dean shot him a warning look.

“Calm down,” he mouthed.

Sam tried to put everything out of his mind but it was almost impossible. He wanted to talk to Dean, wanted to know if they were going to do that again. He wanted his Dad to leave so they could do it again, then and there, in the motel room.

After a few minutes, Sam decided to focus on the television in front of him. He would be able to sort things out with his brother in the morning.

He didn't know how he was supposed to sleep when he slipped into bed an hour later. Dean wouldn't look at him and Sam would have thought that he had imagined the whole thing if that wasn't completely ridiculous. Once their father was snoring on the other side of the room, Dean looked at him and grinned. The tension in Sam's stomach dissolved, looking at his brother's smile, knowing that nothing bad was going to come of what they had done. Eventually, he drifted off, listening to Dean's breathing and remembering how he had looked when he came.


End file.
